Caedmon had told them he had a falconry and would send one of his personal falcons as soon as he knew any more details of King Bain’s plan. Since his birds weren’t magical, they were capable of crossing the barrier the priestesses were upholding at the border of the two kingdoms, to deliver messages back and forth. There was still a risk of it being intercepted, so Caedmon and Evelayn had agreed on a code to use in their communications before he left.
But now she lived in fear of receiving his message and learning their time was running short. How soon would Bain orchestrate his attack? In a week? Two? Or perhaps months from now? She had no way of knowing. Not until Caedmon told her—if he told her. There were still those who thought she had made a grave mistake placing her trust in him.
“Perhaps we should end early tonight,” someone suddenly cut in to the ongoing argument.
Evelayn looked up to see Lord Teslar watching her shrewdly.
“I believe we’re all exhausted and could use a good night’s rest,” he continued. “Maybe then we can come at this problem with fresh perspective tomorrow?”
“I agree,” Evelayn immediately upheld the suggestion before anyone could dissent. They’d been up so late every night, after meeting throughout the day as well, that she hadn’t had the energy or time to run since before her mother’s death. She desperately needed the chance to clear her head and exercise away some of the worry and stress that hovered over her, tightening the hold on her lungs and stomach until she nearly always felt short of breath and her appetite was mostly gone.
There was a murmur of agreement from the long, rectangular table where all the top generals, lords, and High Priestesses who had been invited to the meetings sat. Only those she trusted the most—or whom her mother had trusted, as was the case with Lord Teslar.
How had he known that she’d needed a break? There was no mistaking the timing of his suggestion, coinciding with the exact moment she’d squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of another skull-splitting headache. But she thought she’d been subtle about it. His son Quinlen, who shared his father’s shrewd green-eyed gaze, and Ceren had been spending quite a bit of time together recently, if what Ceren told her at night when Evelayn collapsed into bed was true. Perhaps her friend had confided her worries to Quinlen, who had then told his father?
Regardless, she was grateful for the respite as they all stood up and went their separate ways.
Evelayn had included Lord Tanvir despite her conflicted feelings about him—General Kelwyn had chosen him to help train her for a reason, he was the High Lord of the Delsachts, and she did trust him to look out for her well-being, if nothing else. He was nearly to the door when she called out, “Lord Tanvir, if you would, I’d have a word with you before you go.”
He immediately froze and turned, bending into a deep bow. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Oh, how she hated when he used her title. Especially that one. But then again, they were not in private and he was nothing to her—wasn’t he? So what else was to be expected?
High Priestess Teca shot her a glance, but Evelayn stood tall. She didn’t need to offer an excuse to speak to one of the council members alone.
Once everyone had left and the door shut, Tanvir took a hesitant step toward her and then stopped again. She was getting better and better at recognizing and deciphering scents, especially for Draíolon whom she knew well. And she knew him as well as she knew most, other than Ceren, now that her parents were both gone. That, combined with her growing mastery of the Light Power, which allowed her to sense her subjects’ emotions—at least a little bit—made her fairly certain he was nervous. Even anxious.
Perhaps he did care for her, after all.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked to speak to you, my lord,” she began, “especially after our, um, last conversation.” Her neck warmed at the reminder of the terrible night on the turret when he’d rejected her. He opened his mouth, so she quickly barreled on before he could say anything. “Seeing that I am apparently going to be able to retire at a normal time tonight, and assuming that I am actually able to sleep, I wish to run in the morning. Regardless of the uncertain nature of our association with each other at this point, I would still rather run with you than be trailed by my sentries. Are you still willing to go with me?”
Tanvir’s eyes had grown wider throughout her little speech, but he immediately said, “Yes, of course,” and the freshness of relief immediately replaced the sharp anxiety that had discolored his scent. “Are you sure having just me will be enough assurance of your safety, now that you are the queen?”
“If it was enough for the princess, I don’t see why it should be any different for the queen. We haven’t heard from Caedmon, so we know King Bain isn’t going to attack tomorrow. It should be fine.”
“As long as we can trust him,” Tanvir pointed out.
“I don’t have any other choice. If I can’t trust him, then we have no hope of ever defeating Bain.”
Tanvir was quiet for a moment. “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right choice. I believe he will come through for us.”
There was a loud knock at the door and then Aunt Rylese burst into the room, looking faintly scandalized. “My dear Evelayn, there you are. When everyone else from the council meeting showed up to dinner except for you and Lord Tanvir, I knew it would be best to come in search to make sure everything is quite all right.” She shot Tanvir a disapproving glare.
Evelayn managed to hold back her sigh of frustration—barely. By the Light, she was the queen now. At what point would Rylese quit her hovering and worrying? Though it had no doubt offended her aunt sorely, there was a reason Evelayn hadn’t included her in the council meetings.
“Thank you, Aunt. We were just finishing discussing a specific point of preparation I’ve asked Lord Tanvir to oversee. He will join you at dinner shortly, I’m sure.”
“And you?” Aunt Rylese pressed.
“I will dine in my room tonight. I’m afraid I have a rather violent headache.”
“But—everyone is hoping to see you!”
“And I am deeply sorry, but I must take advantage of the meeting ending at this hour and go rest. Please send my apologies to all those gathered and assure them that we are working toward a way to guarantee peace for our kingdom again.” Guilt over not making an appearance to help calm her subjects only worsened the pounding in her head.
Aunt Rylese was apparently quite appalled at her lack of fortitude as well, for she harrumphed loudly and spun on her heel to storm out of the room, pausing only to flick her wrist at Tanvir.
“Come along then, my lord. We’ll let Her Majesty get her rest.”
When the door had shut behind them, Evelayn plunked down into the nearest chair and let her head drop forward onto her crossed arms on the table. She would wait just a moment to let them get ahead of her and then she would sneak up to her room before anyone else could waylay her.